


used to be clean

by orphan_account



Series: raise me up [1]
Category: The Pacific - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-21 06:03:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Eugene needs me</i>, he thinks, doesn't think about how he needs Eugene too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	used to be clean

He finds it hard to resist Sledge’s sweat-soaked body, tired and pliant and open, resting next to him; caked in days old mud and splattered with days old blood. 

Their foxhole has never seemed smaller than in this moment.

Eugene is asleep now, finally – Snafu can hear his quick and uneasy breaths permeate the bitter cold-hot-cold of Peleliu’s nights. Sledge is turned towards him and he knows if he looked down he would see the beginnings of a nightmare etched into the lines of Gene’s young face. He can feel that nightmare in the way Sledge’s body tenses and twitches against his own. In the way his breathing is becoming more and more irregular. He doesn't look down. He figures the least he can do is spare himself that.

He can barely handle himself, how can he carry this boy as well, because that’s what Eugene Sledge is, a boy with dirt on his face and steel in his hands. He is innocence – the last connection to humanity that Snafu has on this fucking island and it hits him hard when he realizes how much he's grown to care for this kid that'll more likely than not, end up dead. Of course, Snafu himself will probably end up dead so whatever, right? He can allow himself this - he can. It doesn't matter that he's no good for Gene, doesn't matter that the stray thoughts he can't help but think would probably send Eugene running. _Eugene needs me_ , he thinks, doesn't think about how he needs Eugene too.

Snafu edges closer to Eugene, never taking his eyes off the darkness in front of him; he puts a hand on Sledge's shoulder, tightens his grip, and feels Gene's body loosen like he's taken Gene's burden and made it his own. If only, but life isn't that simple and war is even worse and he's so on edge that he keeps forgetting to blink. This is his job, keeping Sledge safe. Maybe he can't protect himself but for some reason the more he thinks about it, the more not making an effort to keep Sledge safe feels like some kind of cardinal sin. Like going against God.

It's getting closer to the time him and Sledge had agreed to switch shifts and he takes his eyes off the abyss that stretches out in front of him for a few minutes; he watches Sledge sleep before waking him, relishes the time he has to just stare without having to worry about getting caught because the boys that like other boys are dead boys and didn't his father beat that into him enough for him to know better than this. He lights a cigarette and takes a swift drag, feeling the dull ache of his father's words and fists weigh on him. Shoving the old man aside with a shake of his head and a controlled yet quick exhale he leans his head down so that it's at level with Sledge's ear. Body heat from Sledge caresses his lips and he whispers, "Sledgehamma." His damned accent catching on the last syllable and drawing it up and out.

Gene wakes and blinks in a way that makes Snafu question if he ever was asleep but he smiles up at him and moves to get up, raising an eyebrow when he sees that Snafu isn't getting down to go to sleep. 

“Ahm not tired.” He says. 

Eugene eyes him curiously, no doubt picking up on what a load of bullshit that is. He reaches over and pats Snafu’s hand, the one not clutching at his M1 like a drowning man clutches the hand that reaches down to save him, and smiles; his eyes sparkling in the distant flare of naval warfare and that’s just unfair, that he can still be so beautiful among all this wreckage. 

“Go to sleep, Snaf.” It sounds like permission, like _“I can handle myself, don’t worry.”_

They stare at each other for a little while and Eugene looks like he’s daring Snafu to do something that they’ll both regret but Snafu’s not ready so nods and ducks down; folding into himself, moving his head until he can feel Gene’s thigh against the back of it. Eugene ignores him and he takes that as a sign, begins to fight another battle inside his skull.

The thing about Eugene is that he’s somehow managed to get past Snafu’s rough, at times cruel, exterior and deep down into the tender parts that keep him alive. He rests in Snafu’s bones, sewn into the tendons that keep Snafu moving, so that it’s not Snafu keeping Snafu alive anymore – it’s the mantra he repeats in his head over and over again. (Live for Eugene, Kill for Eugene)

He falls asleep thinking about red hair and dark eyes and long fingers.

.

The next morning is quiet; the kind of quiet that makes everyone question what the enemy is up to. Eugene looks wary as he examines their surroundings, checking to make sure everything is where it was the previous day. The dead remain dead and in varying states of decay, faces displaying the shock of their death. 

When Sledge seems sure that they’re safe, he turns to Snafu and offers him a smoke. They sit in silence smoking and avoiding each other’s gaze: Snafu, because he dreamed about strong milky-white thighs straddling his waist and the near-heavenly feeling of Gene rolling his hips up into Snafu’s own, and Eugene, because he’s too busy thinking about the dried blood under his nails to glance up.

Sledge looks up eventually and puts out his cigarette, readying his voice for conversation.

“Snafu?” He blinks, reaching up to wipe off some dirt that’s clumped in his eyelashes.

“What is it, Sledgehammer?” 

“What’s your first name? I’ve never heard anybody call you anything other than ‘Snafu’ and ‘Shelton’?”

He looks at Snafu with genuine curiosity that causes Snafu’s lips to quirk up involuntarily.

“Merriell.” He says, “Merriell’s my first name.”

Eugene nods; repeats, “Merriell” a few times like he’s testing it out, trying to figure out how it’ll fit in his mouth. He smiles at Snafu before nodding again.

Snafu wants to ask him why it matters, why it’s any of his business in the first place. He wants to make some biting comment but he can’t because Sledge is smiling and he’s got this wistful expression on his face and Snafu can’t tell if Sledge is smiling at him or to himself.

 _Oh Gene_ , he thinks, _you’re gonna ruin me_.

**Author's Note:**

> i am awful at grammar and should be banned from the english language, so sorry about any mistakes!
> 
> i'll probably continue this later but i'm tired as fuck right now
> 
> also how does one rate something idek


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